A Ghost Story
by elleisforlovee
Summary: Several glimpses of Gert's struggle with her anxiety and how it affects her relationship with Chase.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:**_ Hi! This story will be a series of oneshots (they may fall into chronological order) depicting Gert's silent struggle with her anxiety and how it affects her relationship with Chase. I think the show did a good job _attempting_ to cover it but with so many storylines a lot of the true heart of the matter was missed.

This first chapter kind of sets the scene. The subsequent ones will be much more specific and a bit heavier too. I'd love to hear what you think so if you could leave a review letting me know, I'd appreciate it.

The title of the story is inspired by the poem "Anxiety: A Ghost Story" by Brenna Twohy. It's a bit long but I'd urge everyone to give it a read. It is **too. effing. perfect** for Gert and Chase.

* * *

We have got to talk about the kids  
in all those Goosebumps books.  
For example,  
if your family vacation  
is to an amusement park  
called HORRORLAND,  
and your station wagon explodes  
in the parking lot upon arrival,  
maybe  
shrugging it off,  
buying an extra large popcorn,  
and heading straight for  
The Deadly Doom Slide  
is not your best possible  
course of action.

Or,  
if you steal a weird camera  
from your creepy neighbor's basement  
and every picture you take  
shows bad things happening,  
like decapitation  
and Tofurkey,  
and then all the bad things  
from the pictures  
start happening,  
Stop Taking Pictures.

Or,  
if you move into your new house  
and there are a bunch of small children already living in your bedroom  
that your parents cannot see,  
maybe,  
don't just grab a juice box  
and go play in the cemetery  
that  
is  
in  
your  
backyard.

Or,  
when I tell you of the ghosts  
that live inside my body;  
When I tell you  
I have a cemetery in my backyard  
and in my front yard  
and in my bedroom;  
When I tell you  
trauma is a steep slide  
you cannot see the bottom of,  
that my anxiety is a camera  
that shows everyone I love as bones,  
when I tell you  
panic is a stubborn phantom,  
she will grab hold of me  
and not let go for months–  
this is the part of the story  
when everyone is telling you to run.

To love me  
is to love a haunted house–  
it's fun to visit once a year,  
but no one wants to live there,  
and when you say,  
"Tell me about the bad days,"  
it sounds like all the neighborhood kids daring each other to ring the doorbell,  
you love me  
like the family walking through Horrorland holding hands–  
You are not stupid,  
or careless,  
or even brave,  
you've just never seen  
the close-up of a haunting.

Darling,  
this love will not cure me.  
And this love will not scrape  
the blood from the baseboards,  
but it will turn all the lights on,  
it will bring basil  
back from the farmer's market  
and it will plant it in every windowsill,  
it is the kind of love  
that gives me goosebumps,  
when you say to the ghosts,  
"If you're staying,  
then you better make room,"  
and we kiss against the walls  
that tonight are not shaking,  
so we turn the music up  
and we dance to Miles Davis,  
and you say,  
"My god,  
this house.  
The way that it stands  
even on the months  
that no one goes into  
or comes out of it."

How reckless, the way that I love  
like the first chapter of a ghost story.  
Like the gentlest hand  
reaching out of a grave.

\- _Anxiety: A Ghost Story_ , Brenna Twohy

* * *

They didn't have toothpaste; they couldn't afford toothpaste, so Gert was left to pretend, tapping out the letters of the product she was currently missing on her thigh.

Thumb. Forefinger. Middle finger. Ring finger. Pinky. Thumb. Forefinger. Middle finger. Ring finger. Pinky...

T with her thumb. O with her forefinger. O with her middle finger. T with her ring finger. H with her pinky. Then again: P with her thumb. A with her forefinger. S with her middle finger. T with her ring finger. E with her pinky.

She sighed, relieved, as if the task were self-imposed. Toothpaste was an easy one. The goal was to always count the letters out until the last letter of the word ended on the pinky. Multiples of five, a number that had no true meaning other than providing her mind temporary relief from her other intrusive thoughts: What grade did she get on that history paper she handed in before they left? Did Chase really used to seek her out in between classes like she did for him? Was Molly happy? Was she doing enough to pull her weight in the group? A million questions swirling around in her mind, all searching for and insisting upon responses at the very same moment. She didn't have the answers, which only encouraged the tapping. These inquiries were also obsolete now. She hadn't been to school in several weeks and the boy she use to admire from afar now spent his nights curled up beside her in bed.

There were good things about running away, or at least that is what she told herself. Aside from escaping her parents she now saw Chase everyday and though their living situation was not ideal, there was something somewhat sweet about sharing a home with friends she now considered family. She had to look at it that way before the reality of their situation began to weigh down on her in another cacophony of questions: What if they ran out of money? What if anyone from PRIDE discovered the hostel's location? What if Molly failed to come back from one of her poorly planned late night missions? What if all the time they spent together had Chase realizing she was crazy?

Amidst the racing of her mind, Gert had placed her toothbrush back on the ledge of the sink. Even the small comforts, like a toothbrush cup, were missed. At least they had electricity, Gert reminded herself as she shut off the light and headed back toward her bedroom. Chase had made all of this more comfortable, the lights and the running water — they even had internet now. She didn't need him, she wasn't supposed to need any man, but she couldn't help but to feel safer when he was by her side, fistigons or not. She'd never tell him this, of course. She had only just now admitted this to herself and she did so begrudgingly. Oddly enough her hesitance had nothing to do with fighting patriarchal norms and everything to do with the consequences of giving something meaning. Anything that could be coveted, could be lost just as easily.

"Gert?"

"Shit!" she sputtered, coming to a halt.

Chase was sitting on the bed — their bed, Gert supposed — with Old Lace at his feet. The dinosaur's head was nearly in his lap while he ran a hand along the yielding scales of her neck. Old Lace did not move to greet Gert, meaning not only was Chase making her comfortable but it was clear the pair had been sitting together for some time. Even now her eyes were threatening to stay closed with each passing blink.

Catching even one glance of his flustered girlfriend had Chase smirking. Gert couldn't help but to soften, all of her made weak by the simple existence of dimples and a few well placed freckles.

"You okay?"

Gert made shook her head in agreement. "Yeah, just...you scared me."

"Me? Or the dinosaur?"

She rolled her eyes and moved to sit beside him. Only then did Old Lace shift her position, nuzzling Gert's shirt with her nose to show her appreciation for the proximity. "Lace could never scare me, could you girl?" she cooed, petting the deinonychus' chin.

Chase just waited, taking the time to admire the softness of Gert's cheeks and how her lips were always so incredibly plump, and such a dark pink too.

"I just didn't know you were back from the garage," Gert finally explained, interrupting his thoughts.

"Not a long walk," he chuckled. "But I think I have the car almost working."

"And the fistigons?"

"Fixed."

"Good."

Chase paused again, shifting this time to place his hand to her knee. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I just...I don't know. I get scared, sometimes. This place is dark and cold and it makes noises at the worst times. I keep waiting for someone to find us and I'm just not ready for that because—"

"Hey, hey…" He hushed with a hand placed to her cheek. The soft caress of his thumb had her eyelid fluttering shut. "It's okay. No one's going to find us. We're safe."

"I know," Gert assured.

Chase smirked. "You can't worry about that stuff. We've come this far. The only way someone will find us is if they follow us and we've all been careful."

"Yeah, you're right."

"You don't have to agree with me, you know." Gert's state turned icy, causing Chase to snort out a laugh. "Of course you know that. Just breathe, okay? This isn't forever. We'll figure out something better but for now—"

"I know. It could be worse. I get that."

"Just try not to think about any of it, okay?"

Gert didn't know what to say but she did know her instinct to scream and stomp off was not the best of her options, if she even had any. She'd learned by now that despite how terrified she always was, honesty between Chase and her always seemed to be the most effective. But her hands shook and suddenly Gert felt as if all the oxygen in the air vanished. It heightened her sense of smell: the scent of Chase tickling her nose, almost forcing a smile. It also turned her touch electric as her lungs continued to constrict.

Air was very present and readily available and it wasn't just Chase by her side but Old Lace as well. The others were due to interrupt them. The fact that they hadn't yet was almost a miracle…

Her mind trailed off as it remembered its original intention: to explain to Chase exactly what it was she was feeling. But saying it aloud made it sound silly - simultaneously frivolous and dramatic. To not explain it, however, was to leave him in the dark and leaving Chase in the dark was no better than pushing him away. In fact, it might as well have been the very same thing. If he ever did say — if he managed not to run after she'd exposed her crazy — Gert wasn't sure she'd ask him to stay, even if the thought of anything else terrified her. She wanted him aware and accepting; she wanted him in the light - he deserved that.

"Gert?"

Chase was still smiling when she finally looked up. Even when he once turned her into a fumbling awkward mess, he always seemed to ground her. Gert only wished she could provide the same comfort but she was spending all the energy she had to keep her own head above water.

"Calm down. Just breathe, okay? We're going to figure this out."

There was the oxygen, not filling her lungs but blowing on the fire burning in her mind. _Calm down. Just breathe._ If such things were mere directions she could follow she wouldn't be in this position, her chest feeling heavy and her palms sweating in the presence of a dinosaur and a boy she loved deeply.

But he was trying. He didn't understand because she didn't explain it, so if anyone was to blame for his insensitivity it was her. He was so perfect and she was nothing but quiet chaos. Every embarrassing moment she'd ever had, even those Chase didn't witness, flashed in her mind with the same jerked jolts of old film frames fresh out of the tin. She was a nightmare. To even think Chase, regardless of their previous friendship, would be interested in her was just as insane as her need to tap out words into multiples of five. This was why she had been so hesitant to start things. This was why all of this was crumbling before her, her brain in violent riot while she sat perfectly still before him. That was anxiety: the fight between your inner turmoil and the facade you presented to the world. If she had just been stronger they'd still be friends. She wouldn't have to watch him walk away; she wouldn't have to be the one to make him go.


	2. Chapter 2

For as vast and desolate as the mansion sometimes seemed privacy was a rarity. For one, many of the rooms were inhabitable but the natural chill from being underground mixed with their lack of resources found everyone spending most days sprawled out in the foyer, trying to pass the time. Only on rare occasions were they afforded time alone, usually when Alex disappeared to his _job_ , but even then it was a fight over who would go to collect food or anything else they might need and who would stay behind to guard their makeshift home. But today Gert didn't fight and Chase joined her in staying behind while Molly, Nico, and Karolina ventured downtown.

 _Playing house_ had a different tone when Gert and Chase were alone. Sidestepping around one another in the same bathroom while the rest of the house sat empty was somehow an intimate affair, a show of oneness in its rawest form despite no one else being around to see. Even though Chase had prepositioned Gert with an invitation into the shower with him he wasn't surprised when she rejected him. It was what he expected and he enjoyed how rosy her cheeks became and the way her mouth puckered as she fought her urge to surrender. Her self control wavered when she was off her meds, her personality teetering in a temperature between frigid and hell where she fought to find her place in the world her mind created for her. It was all about regaining control and that was hard to do when all Gert really wanted was to be relaxed again; to smile and kiss Chase the way she had at the dance. She remembered how carefree and safe and wanted she felt just being in his arms, she just couldn't find it in herself to replicate it. Besides, that was the girl Chase craved, and Gert hadn't seen that version of herself in weeks.

Despite her hesitance, when Chase emerged from the shower he made no apology for the way his hips strained against the threadbare towel rolled around his waist. Each step closer to Gert had her practically envisioning him naked. Chase was beautiful and it certainly didn't help matters that he was completely self-aware, at least in that regard. What Gert didn't know was that he often found himself staring at her in the very same way. No, she was not conventionally pretty, meaning it was not her hair or her eyes or her skin that had him breathless. It was everything. It was how she just _was_ , all of her inside and out attracting him the way no one had before. Chase hadn't known that sexual attraction could journey beyond the physical until Gert had let herself be vulnerable with him that night at the dance. He missed that girl desperately; he wanted to tell that girl just how much he loved her — all of her.

"Put on a shirt," Gert deadpanned after spitting her mouthful of off-brand Listerine into the sink. They'd purchased the bottle only two days ago and already it was halfway empty. Chase had diluted it with water several times now; if Gert noticed, she did not say anything.

"Put on some pants," he returned with a coy smile. His eyes contradicted his mouth, taking their time to admire Gert's backside as she leaned forward against the vanity, still inspecting her teeth. Today's underwear had a simple white band with a brand name Chase did not recognize. The cotton below looked as if it were painted on, laying nearly flat against Gert's skin as it curved around her flesh. When she repositioned her weight to get a better look at him, the swells at the top of her legs, just below her butt became all the more apparent. Chase nearly swallowed at the sight.

"Stop staring," she directed flatly, but as she moved to brush past him, Gert casually gripped his chin and asked for a kiss.

For her it was bold but Chase did his best to remain in control. He only held onto her a moment longer than he should have. But when she went to pull away and step out of his embrace, Chase only saw her smile. It was as if his lips had suggested something she had not considered then all at once she was in his arms again, tasting him while his hands ghosted down her sides to grip unapologetically at her butt. He could feel Gert smiling through the kiss, her lips even parting to let a small laugh escape.

Breathless, Chase detached and leaned back, still palming her cheeks in his hands, keeping their lower halves connected. "Are you eating enough?"

Gert was heaving too. "What?"

"You're...you feel different," he explained.

This time her voice was not as light. "What?"

"Just...thinner," Chase settled simply. "Not as soft."

Gert leaned back. Though they remained close, it was clear she was doing her best to separate from him. "Soft?" she scoffed.

"That was a compliment!" Chase insisted in a stammer.

Gert rolled her eyes and pushed him away. Suddenly it seemed that brushing her teeth again was the necessary choice. "Sounded like you were calling me fat but okay—"

"What?" Chase blinked. "No, wait! I just...I'm worried you're not eating!"

"I'm not! None of us are!"

"Look, things may be limited but there's enough food where you shouldn't be starving."

"Well I'm not starving so…"

Chase's shoulders slumped as he gave in to another sigh. "Are you okay? Are you sick?"

Gert put down her toothbrush and turned back to him. "I just...my meds make me gain weight. Without them and with all the stress...happy side effect I guess?"

"Happy?" Chase balked. "You're losing weight! That's not healthy!"

" _I'm_ not healthy!"

"That's not fair, Gert. Don't do that."

"Well don't call me fat!"

"I didn't call you fat! Stop projecting what you think of yourself onto me. You clearly see yourself through some distorted lens so I don't know why I'd expect you to even be able to predict what I think of you."

Gert blinked. If she was fighting back tears, Chase couldn't tell. He was too blinded by his own anger. "Okay."

"What?"

"Well you're right so I'm not going to argue you."

Everything has slowed down but Chase still felt as if his lungs needed more air. "Okay," he swallowed harshly. "Fine."

Gert moved past Chase into their shared bedroom. The room's size meant their makeshift dresser felt like it were miles from the mattress on the floor so when Chase went to retrieve something clean to wear and Gert padded toward the bed, the two both felt very, very alone.

As he dressed, Chase concentrated on Gert in his peripheral. The sweatpants she slept in were laid over a chair near the bed but she did not move to slip into them. Instead she sat plainly on the side of the bed, one leg tucked beneath her while the other hung off, toes pointing to the dusty oriental rug below.

"Gert?"

She looked up, almost shocked to see Chase standing on the other side of the bed. The reality of their situation: their shared room and all the stress that surrounded everything they did, came rushing into focus. Gert forced a smile which Chase interpreted as permission to continue.

"I was going to nap."

She looked to the bed then back to him. Her movements were somewhat stiff. Sometimes Gert was so lost in her own mind she was still and almost lifeless. Chase didn't know if she was surprised by his presence or her own. "Yeah, sure."

She pushed off the bed, ready to stand, but he stopped her. "Wait."

"What?"

"Don't go. I mean...that wasn't an invitation to leave."

"Oh." She sat back down. When Chase lifted the blanket he settled beneath, she accepted his invitation and shifted so she was beside him. "I didn't...I'm stupid."

"You're stupid?" Chase chuckled. Both had been looking to the ceiling but he was thankful for her interruption because it gave him the chance to stare again. "I'm an idiot. I shouldn't have said anything. I know how girls are with their weight and I know better and it was dumb. Really dumb."

Gert sighed and rolled beside him so her head was nearly on his shoulder. "No, you...your intentions were good. I overreacted. I'm sorry. I just...vulnerable, remember?"

"I know," he nodded. "And I ruined it."

"You didn't. It's...it's okay. I'm sorry."

Gert nuzzled into Chase's shoulder, the tip of her nose breathing him in as she simply relished in having him so close again. They could have been so much closer if only her mind hadn't gotten in the way, interrupting her thoughts with all of the things she used to truly believe: _You're a freak. He couldn't possibly be attracted to you. Look at the girls he dates. You're not Eiffel. You're not Karolina. Not even a drastic change could turn you into the girl he wants. He's beautiful and he deserves someone beautiful. You want him but he certainly doesn't want you._

Her anxiety not only erased everything Chase had done (and continued to do) to prove she was exactly the girl he wanted, but it acted as if everything she thought before was not only imagined but confirmed. It was like they were back in school and she was nothing more than a joke to him and his friends. Even laying beside him, his arm now wrapped tightly around her shoulders while she pressed an ear to his chest listening to his heartbeat, Gert felt as if she didn't belong. Someday, likely soon, Chase would realize the world was not ending and go back to living the life he wanted, one where Gert was overlooked to the point of practical nonexistence.

"Gert? Babe?"

She looked up, realizing she had done it again: become so wrapped up in each self-sabotaging ideal that she'd forgotten there was no use in worrying about what had already been obtained. It didn't help that Chase was almost too understanding. He responded by holding her tighter, kissing her longer. If this really was all a joke to him, he was playing the role wonderfully.

Gert shook her head, hoping to banish all her doubts. Instead it gave her clarity, at least long enough for her to gaze up at him, hoping her eyes showed him the adoration her mind was still grappling with. _She liked when he called her babe. She should tell him that, shouldn't she?_

"Gert?"

"Sorry, I…" Every bit of oxygen drained from her lungs. _Christ, he was perfect_ , she thought. "You know I want you, right?"

"I...yeah, I guess."

"I do. A lot. I want you more than I ever have before...which is a lot considering…" Chase snickered and she did the same, both wordlessly acknowledging what could now be recognized as a clear crush. If Gert had stopped insulting Chase she would have seen he harbored the same feelings for her, and maybe had long before she did — before Amy and evil parents and all those years of constant miscommunication — when they even managed to speak at all.

"Let's just sleep," Chase suggested. "Lace is quiet. We're alone…"

"We can—"

"Just a nap," Chase interrupted.

Gert nodded and turned away from him, rolling so all he could see was her hunched back and the lavender hair that laid unevenly against her neck. When Chase didn't turn to follow her, Gert gave a small glance over her shoulder.

"Are you not touching me because of me or because of you?"

"Huh?"

"Do you want to touch me? Like you usually do?"

He finally shifted, but did nothing to reach out and pull her close. "Yeah, I...I didn't know if you wanted me to."

"I do. I always do," she assured.

"Yeah," Chase sighed, expelling nothing but relief. "Me too."

Gert smiled. "Yeah?"

He settled in behind her and did not hesitate to wrap a strong arm around her waist, his hand curving beneath her side where his thumb gently rested against her ribcage. "Can I say something?"

"Is it going to ruin this?" Before he could respond, Gert continued. "Because that's my job and I've already done it and I don't want it to happen again because I just finally feel fine right now and—"

"I just wanted to tell you that I want you too. Always. In any way you'll let me. I...you mean a lot to me and sure, you're brilliant and passionate and sometimes a bit terrifying and I like all those things about you but I also think you're sexy and I get it but it just kind of sucks to think that you don't believe me."

"I know."

"I don't think you do."

"I'm trying to understand."

"I wish you'd let me show you…" His voice trailed off, diminishing in volume as Gert's eyes widened. "I mean, not like that...well, actually exactly like _that_ but not right now," he emphasized, adding a pause. "Because you're not ready and we'll wait until you're ready."

Gert turned over quickly, remaining beneath his grip but facing him now. Her warm palm curved perfectly against his neck, her thumb caressing the skin near his ear. He was perfect and she was doing her best to ignore how inadequate she felt but even his dimpled smile and hopelessly innocent brown eyes couldn't cure her illness. They were a distraction and she was thankful for them but they did nothing to fix the chemical imbalance in her brain. _If only_ , Gert thought often.

"I'm just glad you're here," she whispered. Their mouths were so close that her lips nearly brushed his with each passing word. "Even if it doesn't seem like it because I'm terrible at showing it or saying it. I wouldn't be able to do this without you. I really mean that."

The sound of such honesty had Chase's eyes fluttering shut. He couldn't possibly tell her that such a brave declaration only added to how much everything in him wanted everything about her. But people show love differently. Sometimes with words, other times with touch, and for those with anxiety — sometimes not at all.

* * *

 **A/N** **:** Thanks for reading! I promise they're not all going to be so melancholy. Please let me know what you think by leaving a review! xx


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** **:** Thanks to everyone for reading and showing this story some love. It means SO MUCH to me :)

Just a note - the rating has been bumped up to T for this one. It'll go up to M soon. I don't know what everyone prefers. Feel free to leave me a review or message me to let me know.

* * *

She'd never get enough of his mouth on her skin, especially when it was not her lips he was getting acquainted with but the parts of her no one else saw: feather-like contact on her ribcage and hips causing her heart rate to quicken. He'd been so unbelievably gentle at the dance and despite the venue and the speed at which everything progressed, the sex they'd had was better than Gert could have ever imagined. And she did imagine it. Even presently, when she pushed him away and told him she needed more time, she wanted him badly.

 _Lost in a dream, they weren't in the bed they had been sharing in the hostel. The mattress was raised and though Gert struggled to collect details, it was as if the room they were in existed somewhere between her childhood bedroom and his own. Like the dance, the location didn't matter. They were together and finally giving in to the years of built up frustration. Their physical intimacy was somehow everything they'd always wanted to say to one another but never could._

 _Gert had her head laid back, eyes tightly shut while she concentrated on Chase's mouth, now loving (and likely marking) the sensitive skin behind her ear. He hovered above her with only their hips touching but she could feel him elsewhere too; one of his hands had made its way beneath the soft cotton of her top. It was just his palm fitting the curve of her waist but his thumb moved back and forth. His hands were bigger than she'd imagined, the slight motion causing her stomach to twirl in anticipation._

" _Stay still…" he whispered._

 _When Gert tried to respond, no sound came out. It was probably a good thing. All she could manage when they were like this was a choked moan or heavy breathing. The speech that she was capable of was usually rambling. Chase was usually too focused on her to care much what she had to say about it._

 _It felt good. Everything felt so good. Even the pads of his fingers now creeping up her belly had her tossing her head back, stifling a giggle._

" _Gert, you okay?"_

 _She picked up her head. Chase kneeled before her now, a concerned look etched across his face. When she tried to respond, all she heard was more silence. He was present and her body was present but her mind was elsewhere._

 _This version of Chase reacted as if she had answered. "We don't have to…" he whispered as he flopped onto the bed beside her._

 _But she did want to. God, she wanted to. Lately it was all she wanted. Why was he pushing her away? When she tried to inquire, he only turned away. "If you don't want to, just tell me."_

" _I do want to!" she wanted to scream. For a moment Gert thought that maybe she had found her voice but Chase didn't turn back to her and the longer the moment carried on, the more she realized if she had said anything he certainly didn't hear her._

" _Stop taking my words and twisting them to make yourself feel better!" Chase countered. He was suddenly standing. In a blink the situation had shifted. He was more angry now; less patient in a way that had Gert feeling uneasy. She wanted to sit up but she couldn't. As Chase moved around her she was rooted to the spot, mostly on her back just blinking up at the water spots on the ceiling._

 _She couldn't see him in her peripheral but she heard him: sad and almost detached. "Stop trying to make me out to be this bad guy, Gert. I'm trying, alright? But I can only try as much as you let me."_

Gert woke up crying. She didn't know what she preferred at this point: the overwhelming nature of a conscious panic attack or the helplessness that came from being an anxious mess even when lost in slumber. Obviously neither were preferable and it seemed her body was in disagreement as well, as waking up with tear stained cheeks seemed to happen just as much as her nail biting or deep heavy sighs to calm her breathing. Even sleep, which she did a lot of lately, wasn't a true escape.

The dreams she used to have, before she was diagnosed — when Amy was still alive and the sixtet actually made sense as friends — were tame in retrospect. There was the fear of her parents dying, of Molly being hurt, or of her being left alone in any capacity. She also had the typical dreams, the ones that had her feeling like she was falling or running from someone or something she couldn't see. Chase didn't exist in those dreams, at least not as a single unit. She was too young, too naive, and overall stunted by her rejection of the truth.

Tonight was different. Tonight was all about Chase, just as everything seemed to be lately. Her parents were evil, Molly was pushing her away, and Chase stood by her side throughout all of it. It made sense that she'd dream of him. He was now the thing she feared losing the most, probably because above all else the likelihood of him leaving her was the greatest. But she'd allowed herself to not only want him but to need him too. This was entirely her fault.

 _God, what was she doing? This wasn't fair. She wasn't being fair to him. She didn't deserve his patience. Her dreams shouldn't be the only time he had a temper. He had the right to be that angry with her all the time. Why wouldn't he push her away? She deserved that. She was insufferable lately. How could she ask anyone to love her? Did he even love her? She certainly loved him. But maybe this was a charade. Would they be here if things weren't so crazy?_

The doubt had her throat constricted to the point of non-breathing. She swallowed down the guilt and when the oxygen flooded her lungs she gave a deep sigh in dismissal of all the thoughts that plagued her and kept her from sleep.

"I can hear you thinking."

Outside of her dream she could move. As she rolled her head upon her pillow to look to Chase, she realized she could talk too. "What?"

"I'd be asleep by now if Old Lace wasn't being so loud trying to get comfortable. She's going to fall through the stairs if she doesn't sit still."

She looked back to the ceiling. "Sorry."

"You might as well tell me what it is," Chase said in suggestion. The arm he had slung over his eyes now reached out to touch her. "We both need sleep."

Gert sighed. "I'm just thinking about Karolina."

Chase laughed. "What?"

" _You_ and Karolina."

He shook his head. "I don't know what you mean. There is no...was no—"

"You liked her," Gert accused, looking back to him.

"I _thought_ I liked her."

"You kissed her."

"I thought she liked me," he shrugged. When Gert did not give a rebuttal, he continued. "I'm not going to lie to you. What are we just supposed to act like there was no one before us?"

"No, of course not," Gert negated in a tone that made it seem as if Chase's suggestion was the most ridiculous one she had ever heard. "But she's...she lives here too now."

"Yeah, and I'm pretty sure her and Nico get up to the same things we do every night so…" Gert was still silent. "You've been with other people!" Chase tossed out in defense.

"What? No, I haven't!"

"You most definitely were not a virgin," Chase scoffed.

"For your information, virginity is a social construct meant to confine women to property and define their value based on something a man has the power to take away."

Chase rolled his eyes. "I'm not even going to try to pretend to understand what any of that means."

Gert shook her head, both of them looking like pouty children in the king-sized bed they shared. "There are other ways to stretch a hymen, Chase." His silence reminded her of the time she had to explain to him exactly what Nico and Karolina did most nights. _Straight boys,_ she thought with an indignant laugh. His ignorance was almost comical then. Now she was just annoyed. "I don't need a man to do it. I'm perfectly capable."

"What?" Chase blinked. "Why wouldn't you—"

"Because it's not that big of a deal," she offered. "Sex was better because it wasn't the first time—"

"Alright."

"Alright," she tossed back, glad he wasn't daft enough to push the issue any further. But then, just when the symbolic dust of their argument settled: "How many girls?" The question cut through the night air in the worst way.

"I'm not answering that."

"Why?"

"Because it doesn't matter! The only girl that matters is the one in my bed. The girl that I luh—"

"You didn't sleep with Karolina?"

"What? Fuck no!"

"Why not?"

"She didn't like me," Chase said simply.

"If she did? Would you have?"

"Probably." The exhale had him turning to face her. It also softened his voice. "I'm not going to lie to you, Gert. I won't do it. But let's get into this so we can put it to bed. I'm tired."

"Me too," she accepted, swallowing. Chase wondered if it were tears she was pushing down.

"So that's it? Karolina? Really?"

"No. Well...maybe," she mumbled. "I just wonder, why me? After all this time. Why at the dance?"

"What do you mean?"

She finally turned toward him. Both laid on their sides, hands clasped beneath their heads like children sharing secrets. But they weren't children anymore and the secrets they kept, unfortunately, were personal and were not always shared so openly.

"Is it because you thought the world was going to end and I was the only girl offering or—"

"What?" His incredulous nature propelled him upward into a sitting position. "Okay, now you sound ridiculous."

Gert shifted to join him. "I just wonder...what if our parents weren't these horrible people? Would we be together? Would you have even looked my way again? Ever."

"I told you I looked your way plenty."

"Not long enough."

"You know what, that's not fair, alright? You acted like you hated me! Out of nowhere! Maybe you weren't the only one that felt ignored. Maybe how our friendship ended hurt me too. I'm sorry I couldn't see through your act but I had a lot going on. Amy had just died and things with my dad were somehow getting _worse_...it wasn't the best time for me to admit I had feelings for you and you got cold because we were all pulling away...why let myself feel something that wasn't going to be reciprocated?" Gert waited so he continued. "Then time passed and I was just trying to make everything easier. I couldn't control my dad or school or whatever but I could at least—"

"Fuck the pretty girl?" Gert avoided him, not wanting to hear the truth she had long ago acknowledged. Instead she picked at a loose thread on the bedspread.

"Like I tried to last night?"

Her eyes widened as she met his once more. "That's not fair either!"

Chase shrugged. "You're right."

"I used to hate Karolina so much and I hated her because she was so nice. Not only was she pretty but she was nice too. I couldn't compete."

"What? Gert...you didn't have to."

"It didn't feel like that. But I'm glad that's what you think because I couldn't. Definitely can't now. But that's who you deserve. The nice pretty girl."

"I have the nice pretty girl."

"I—"

"I have the girl I want," he assured, now holding her hands in his.

"Okay." Chase now knew that Gert was definitely hiding tears. Her voice cracked and then all at once she slipped back underneath the covers, only her head peeking out as the rest of her body curled into itself beneath their shared duvet.

Chase leaned into her, all of him pressed into her back as he hovered above her, concerned. "Gert, you're making this harder than it has to be. I want you. I've wanted you for a long time. Even before...Amy." He hissed in a breath. Maybe he was hiding tears too. He couldn't remember the last time he had cried. "Once I told myself it was okay it was easy. But you're making it hard and I don't know why you keep—"

Without warning, Gert rolled over and wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling into him. He knew now she was crying; her tears stained his cotton shirt almost immediately. "Just hold me, okay?"

He nodded. This was all he wanted and had ever wanted; for her to be by his side, especially when things were difficult. He hated himself for ever doing anything to make her doubt that but he rationalized that they were both at fault.

Chase tightened the grip he had on Gert, causing her to choke out a sob. She also mumbled an apology into his neck but he shook his head, not wanting to accept it. Instead he pressed a firm kiss to the top of her head.

Eventually her breathing slowed. Chase wondered if maybe she'd fallen asleep. He wanted to join her but he also knew they'd likely never be here again. Gert was trying to limit how much she gave in to her paranoia and Chase had always been one to avoid conflict.

He interrupted the still air, asking one last question. "Do you ever think about Amy's funeral?"

Gert knew what he was asking so she nodded quickly, tickling his chin with her messy hair. "Yeah. A lot actually."

"I should have told you...should have said...I did mean it."

"I know."

"I was a coward. I was scared, you know? I...I didn't want to lose you. But I did anyway."

Gert looked up to him. Her glossed over eyes always looked so different from out beneath her glasses. Sleepy and sad, she was still beautiful but Chase couldn't tell her that. If he had, he was almost certain he'd join her in crying.

"Not forever."

Chase's eyes slowly closed. He was exhausted and when he had confirmation that Gert was asleep he submitted, wanting nothing more than to join her. Lately it was the only place he felt safe and thankfully, she was often with him in his dreams too.

 _It was barely a dream. He remembered it so well: the black suit his mother had purchased for him and the tie he insisted he knot on his own hanging much lower than his belt. He had been avoiding his father all day, not wanting to be reprimanded for such a minor detail and then mortified when is father insisted he fix it. Gert must have realized because she was the first to compliment his attire._

" _Looking good, jock-jams," she had said, a wide smile following so effortlessly. He had smiled at her across the table where they all lined up to fill plates with catered food. The nickname was one said in affection at one point, before miscommunication turned everything bitter between the two. She had even been to a few of his lacrosse games, dragging an annoyed Nico along but attending mostly with Amy._

 _He hadn't had time to tell her he thought she looked nice too. Gert disappeared with Molly and Chase remembered watching her go, noting how her hair was pulled off her face and the glasses she usually wore were missing. He was almost transfixed by her then as the quirky and brilliant best friend finally had an outward appearance that mimicked her heart. But he'd always thought she was beautiful and just never had the courage to tell her. A funeral, he presumed, was certainly not the place to change that._

 _When he found her later she was in her favorite spot: tucked on an eave just outside her bedroom window. It was an unusually warm day in February, even for southern California, and yet Gert had her arms crossed tight over her chest and her legs pulled up, not caring how she looked when hidden away on the roof._

" _You okay?" he had asked, and Gert looked over her shoulder to him, giving a small smile in return before reacquainting her gaze with the setting sun._

 _Chase had taken her silence as an invitation and he joined her out on the roof. Before he sat down he shrugged out of his suit jacket. It was an attempt to stay cool but also a kind gesture, one that Gert took willingly when he set the coat around her shoulders._

" _Thanks."_

" _You okay?"_

 _She looked to him again. Her lips were darker than usual. She had started wearing makeup the year before and it wasn't uncommon for new colors and hues to be painted on her eyes or cheeks. Her lips, however, were a slightly newer development. Chase would have noticed it too; he sometimes caught himself spending an unreasonable amount of time staring at her mouth, contemplating all the things she said that he often didn't understand._

 _Finally, Gert nodded. "Yeah. I will be. Just thinking…"_

" _Anything I can help with?"_

" _No, I don't think so."_

 _Chase nodded, wondering if he should go. Before he could, Gert reached over for his hand. She stretched her legs out and laced her fingers through his. Her head dropped to his shoulder and Chase softened, wondering if he should have done more._

" _I just wonder why Amy, you know? She seemed fine. She always laughed with us. Most days she seemed happier than me. She just had the best outlook on life...why her?"_

" _I don't—"_

" _Or why not me, I guess?"_

 _Chase swallowed. "What? Gert…"_

" _I'm just being realistic. I'm the crazy one of the group. That freak out I had at school last month...remember? My mom thinks it was a panic attack."_

" _I don't...you're not crazy. Amy wasn't crazy either she was just...sad."_

" _Was she though?"_

" _Some of us hide our feelings better than others."_

 _Gert wondered who Chase was referring to. Maybe he was referring to them both. He didn't talk about it much but out of their friends she was the only one who knew the extent of his father's abuse. He only gave in to her questions about his bruises once he could assure her he could protect himself. Maybe he was talking about other feelings: the undeniable energy that existed between them when they shared the same space. He wondered if she felt it too. If she didn't, maybe he was the crazy one._

" _You can't...you're okay, right?" Chase asked, his speech coming out in a mumble. "I mean, not related to Amy but like,_ you _. You're okay?"_

 _Gert nodded. "Yeah. I think so."_

 _Chase somehow moved closer. He wrapped an arm around Gert and when she failed to place her head back on his shoulder he reached out with his other hand to stroke a stray hair behind her ear. "You look…"_

" _Don't say it," Gert said, looking away._

 _Chase's wonderment fell away. "Oh, okay…"_

" _I was waiting for you to make a joke—"_

" _Why would I make a joke?"_

" _I look—"_

" _Pretty," he settled quickly before she had the chance to give her own opinion. Gert never saw herself the way he did and he wanted that for her because she always saw him in a light he felt he didn't deserve. Even when she commented on how smart and brave he was, Chase would roll his eyes but deep down he cherished the idea that Gert even thought these things about him, much less took the time to voice them aloud. He wanted to give her that same happiness. He needed to tell her she looked pretty more often. Because she did._

 _Gert was mostly silent but her mouth seemed to twitch as she surely thought of the appropriate response. Words were easier when she could plan responses but it was difficult to construct an answer to a statement she never thought she'd hear._

" _You're just saying that."_

" _Why would I?"_

" _Because you think I'm sad. And I'm not sad," she insisted._

" _If you say you're not sad then I'll believe you. But it has nothing to do with how you look. I like your dress."_

" _My dress?"_

" _And your hair...and your glasses."_

" _You like that I don't have glasses," Gert corrected for him._

 _Chase shook his head. "I like that I can see your face better."_

" _Well with these contacts I can barely see_ your _face so—"_

 _Chase chuckled and Gert followed. His hand had fallen from her shoulders, taking his jacket with it. It laid in a half moon halo around her waist but Gert's figure, previously small, seemed to relax around Chase. It was as if she no longer needed protection when he was by her side. He was the warmth she craved, or at least that was what he had hoped._

 _In an attempt to give her back the jacket, Chase's hand ghosted up her back, sending shivers down Gert's spine. Goosebumps appeared on her arms but Chase had the confirmation now that she was anything but cold. He hadn't realized how close they were until he felt the heat of her breath on his chin. He wanted to lean in so he did and though his bravery surprised him, Gert's lips accepting his against her own shocked him more. Her pout was so gentle and unassuming, making the kiss they shared tentative and slow. The detach was just as languid, the dramatics added to by eyes that had previously cried tears for their lost friend now fluttering open in mutual bliss._

" _You didn't mean that," Gert said quickly._

 _Chase redirected his gaze to her eyes. "What?"_

" _That was...we're sad."_

 _She stood, causing Chase's eyes to follow again. "I thought you weren't sad?"_

" _I don't know what I am, Chase! I'm...we should go. They're probably looking for us, right?"_

 _He sighed, giving in to her clear irritation. Years from now he'd recognize it as anxiety; her perceived loss of control giving her a bit of a temper. She was clearly angry that she had let him kiss her. Or, she was angry because she liked it and never thought he'd feel the same._

" _I don't think…"_

" _C'mon. I'm sure they've put the desserts out by now. Dad said they ordered a whole plate of those cupcakes you love. Real sugar, too!"_

" _I—"_

 _Gert nearly choked on her own thought. "We…" Her voice got quiet. "We don't have to talk about it. It's...it was nothing."_

 _It wasn't. At least not to him. But maybe he'd read the signs wrong. Maybe his romantic feelings for her made him hopeful and convinced him to believe things that weren't true._

" _Gert…"_

" _Don't, Chase!"_

 _Gert climbed back in her window and Chase followed. He watched her all the way down the stairs, the hair at her neck now falling from its twist. They ate cupcakes and she gave him the hug she always gave him when it was finally time for him to go home._

They didn't really talk about it but a nod in the memory's direction was enough for now. Chase was just relieved to know Gert thought about it too. This certainly wasn't the first time a dream had taken him back in time to that sunshine covered rooftop and the way her mouth was tentative and perfect against his own.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N** **:** We're bumping the rating to M. Before you get excited...this chapter deals with adult themes that are very real for many people with anxiety disorders. The perk is it's Gert and Chase dealing with them, two people who deeply care about and respect one another...so there's that?

* * *

Gert sat on the floor, a plate of fruit and muffins and pastries piled on a cheap plastic plate before her. The bunch of grapes she had chosen was mostly empty stems now so she took her time savoring each bite, closing her eyes at the simple taste of natural sugar. Their diet lately consisted mostly of non-perishables so despite Topher's unexpected arrival and questionable motives, Gert did her best not to question his methods and instead indulged in the makeshift feast.

"How did I know you'd be up here?" Chase asked, closing the door to their bedroom behind him.

Gert swallowed and wiped gingerly at her mouth with the tips of her fingers. "Don't make fun of me."

"I expected you to put up a fight—"

"I'm hungry," she groaned. "Don't judge me! I'm sick of crackers and peanut butter and trail mix. I need anything that doesn't come pre-packaged in a box. It's all starting to taste the same and—"

"Alright, alright," Chase gave, raising his hands as if in surrender. "I'm not judging. Your stockpile is impressive."

Gert's mouth dropped open in a slightly dramatic fashion, causing Chase to laugh out loud. "Calling it a stockpile sounds judgy."

"Not judgy, I swear. Especially if you're sharing…" He approached her but Gert leaned back, pretending to reject his advances. "C'mon…"

"Dream on, jock-jams," she teased, her words coated with a thick set of giggles. This time when she leaned back she took her plate with her, holding it close to her chest as if to protect it from Chase who was now by her side.

"Gert…"

"Get your own!" she screeched. Without thinking she threw a grape at him, hitting him square on the cheek.

Chase blinked, mostly shocked by her good aim. "That's wasteful," he retorted.

Immediately Gert was laughing again but she stopped when Chase picked the grape up and moved to put it in his mouth. "No!" she yelled, lunging at him. The plate she placed on the bed nearly toppled over as she moved to wrestle Chase who, she now realized, clearly never had any intention of actually eating the fruit.

"You're not playing fair," Gert groaned. All the while she stood between his knees with her hands were on his shoulders, essentially letting him hold her weight. He must have appreciated the position because he too forgot about the plate of treats that had started the argument, his hands now firmly gripping the curve of her backside.

The way Chase stared up at her had Gert disregarding her food completely. She was filled with a different type of hunger and she seized the moment, taking his lips with it as she placed a searing kiss to his waiting mouth. Both moaned into the sensation and the grip Gert had on Chase's shoulders slid up, her hands repositioning at his neck so she could caress the hair at the nape of his neck. In another bold move she straddled him, her knees working to push down the bed on either side of him as she settled into his lap.

Gert could be quirky and demanding and difficult but she could also be coy and beautiful and sexy. Chase relished in the fact that only he was allowed to see her this way - the best friend he once had who now hid behind purple hair and sarcasm after a heartbreaking loss, always resurfaced when the two were intimate.

With hands splayed up her back, Chase manipulated Gert, carrying her weight to lay her gently on the bed so he was now hovering above her. Neither could stop smiling and suddenly it was fingertips and gentle kisses on every bit of exposed skin. Gert shrugged out of her cardigan, shuddering as Chase's hands skimmed down the length of her arm to aid her.

His t-shirt was next. Gert just laid back, pushing back at her hairline as she watched his arms and chest come into view. As soon as he was bare he was on top of her again, ready to kiss her neck just as soon as she ran her fingers up and down the planes of his abdomen. He wasn't wrong; she was soft and he was rigid but somehow they fit together so perfectly. Chase loved that he didn't have to worry about his weight atop Gert and she certainly wasn't complaining when his skin, somehow tanned and sometimes marked by sun spots, pressed up against hers from above.

Gert wondered what she look like from this angle. Somehow all thoughts of body positivity went out the window when the boy you'd been in love with for so long saw you naked. Regardless of emotional connection (and she _had_ accepted that Chase clearly felt more deeply about her than he ever had with anyone else before her) it was overwhelming at best. The private parts of herself she shared with Chase went far beyond naked skin. It was as if the world they existed in when they were alone together was devoid of space and time; it was entirely theirs to share. It had been that way the night of the dance and it was like that now, on a Tuesday afternoon in their dusty makeshift bedroom.

"Gert?"

"Hmm?" she blinked, bringing her eyes back into focus. She must have been distracted, a fact that didn't surprise her.

"You okay?" Chase smirked. He was looking down at her with eyes that nearly twinkled in anticipation. She wanted to meet him there but unfortunately her want was clouded by her usual stresses. But she did want him — _God, did she want him_.

"Mhm," she nodded quickly, never wanting him to get the idea that she wasn't wholly ready for any love he wanted to show her. "C'mere," she whispered, beckoning him closer with a delicate hand placed to the nape of his neck. Chase's grin grew and Gert kissed it off of him as she felt all of him press into her.

"Stop thinking," Chase commented as his hands unbuttoned Gert's shorts and began to pull them off her legs.

In her distraction she had missed him undressing, a sad reality considering their night at the dance didn't really allow for much visual appreciation. Everything then was so fast and rushed — sexy. Chase clearly wanted this to be different, not only because he thought Gert deserved that but because he wanted to show her that making love was about far more than seeing her body. The dance was as it was because it had to be, not because that was how he wanted it. No, what he wanted was the girl he hovered above, naked and close. He wanted it over and over again, for as long as she'd allow it.

"I'm serious," Chase finally managed. His hands ghosted down her legs, gripping at the backs of her knees to bring her closer. His simple touch created goosebumps along her thighs.

"I'm not…" Gert sighed. "Let's just keep this on," she mumbled as she gave up on the clasp of her bra.

"What? No. Sit forward—"

"Let's just keep it on, alright?"

"Gert…"

"I'm just…"

"We don't have to do this. I told you that."

"But I want to, Chase! I promise! I really do!"

"Is it...is it your meds?"

"Probably. Isn't everything?"

Chase leaned down, flopping onto the bed beside her. As she turned to look at him she realized this was exactly how she'd seen him in her dream. The only difference was this version of him looked less angry and far more concerned. He rolled on to his side to get a better look at her, even brushing her hair off her face and leaving his hand behind in an attempt to offer her comfort.

"Talk to me…"

Gert closed her eyes, willing it all to go away. "I'm...god, Chase, I'm so sorry…" Her voice broke.

"Babe, it's not...it's fine."

"It's not fine! I should be able to fuck my boyfriend!"

Chase chuckled. "Yeah, I mean, it'd be nice but I told you we could do this at your speed."

"This is my speed! This is actually slower than my speed. But with...god, I'm such a mess. I just don't feel very confident. You're right. I can't stop thinking. And I just want to make you feel good—"

"And I'd like to return the favor."

"Well that's not going to happen."

Chase sat forward. "What?"

"I...I was actually worried that I, uh, wouldn't be wet because sometimes when I'm anxious I can't…"

He flopped back down again, this time causing the mattress to bounce beneath them as he pushed back at his hairline. "Fuck, Gert." His hand covered his eyes as he rubbed at his temples.

"I know…"

"Well I'd hope you would have said something before…"

"I think you would have realized—"

"Yeah, after I hurt you," he tossed back, clearly miffed.

"Yeah, with your monster dick. Totally would have ripped me in two. You're right," Gert deadpanned.

Chase couldn't help but to laugh. He pinched her side and she squeaked, happy for the momentary reprieve for all the awkwardness.

"Is this...normal?"

"No, definitely not," she assured. She looked to him, praying he believed her. She hoped he did; she wasn't lying. "But I could...blowjobs are fun, right?"

"For me, yeah."

"Well then—"

"No," he said, stopping her as she reached across him to initiate the very thing she had suggested. "It's not about that, Gert. You know it's not. I want _you_. I want to be with _you_. I want to do this together." He paused, then spoke aloud again. "Did I hurt you before?"

"What?"

"At the dance. Did I…"

"Oh, no. I was on my meds. I could...god, I can't even tell you what I was thinking then—"

"Do you want to know what I was thinking?" Chase teased.

Gert rolled her eyes. "I don't know. Do I?" She giggled. "Probably not." But a sigh soon followed. "That's how it should be, Chase. That's how our entire relationship should be. You've been through so much shit—"

"And you."

"Alright, _we've_ been through so much shit and we finally got out of our own way and took a chance and it wasn't easy and now we can be together and as usual, I'm fucking it up."

"You're not…" Chase moved to grab her hand so he could hold it in his. "It's...it's frustrating but not because we can't have sex. I see how all of this is affecting you and I can't do anything to help."

"No," Gert agreed, returning her attention to the ceiling. "You can't. And it's not fair—"

"Gert, we're not going to do this. It is what it is. None of this is ideal but we're dealing with it together, right?"

"I should have told you no. I should have—"

Chase sat forward again. "What?"

"At the dance. I should have—"

He was sitting fully upright now, all of his weight pressing down on the edge of the bed while he neck craned back to look at her. It was an altogether uncomfortable position but it was better than his other option, one that saw him walking out the door. "Uh, last time I checked you were a willing participant—"

Chase's insinuation had Gert propelled forward. "No, I was! I definitely was! I just mean...it's a lot. I'm a lot. I know. And we thought we were going to die and we weren't thinking and it was great...better than great," she smirked, "because of that but if I had known that someday we'd be sharing a room and you'd actually want it to be anything more than that I probably would have pushed you away."

"You regret it?"

"No...well, not in the way you're thinking. I just...this is why I don't date. I'm a mess. It's not fair to ask anyone else to deal with this. And I just wonder if I've ruined all of this because you say you're here now but I know you won't always be because eventually you'll get sick of me and—"

Chase stood. "Gert, stop, alright? We don't have to have sex. Whatever. But don't turn this around and make it something it's not. I'm trying but you don't even talk to me. You won't explain any of this to me."

"I don't know how."

"Really? You did a pretty good job just now. Anxiety makes sex hard. Great. Got it."

"It's not that black and white. I just...I want to be perfect for you, Chase. All of this could have been perfect and then our parents had to go and be evil and we had to run away—"

"I don't know if we would have _been_ at all if our parents weren't evil."

"What? But you said—"

"I know what I said. And I meant it. But that night at the dance we were honest with each other for the first time since Amy died. Who knows how long it would have been before you finally admitted to me that you didn't hate me? But I should recognize this, shouldn't I? This is what you do. You get scared and you push people away."

"I'm not just scared, Chase! I'm sick!" She was standing before him now, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes frantic and pleading.

He sighed and took a single step toward her, invading her space. Gert did not flinch but she didn't meet his gaze either. Even when Chase reached up to cup her face, she somehow managed to keep her eyes focused on the floor below. "I'm fucked up too. We all are. All I know is I'm not giving up on this...on us." He let his thumb caress her earlobe, finally causing her to look up. "I've wanted this too long. You. Us. Fuck our parents. Mine have already taken so much from me...they don't get to have this too."

Gert's eyes were watered over but she smiled anyway. The arms she had folded fell to her sides but soon found a new home around Chase's waist. This was a different type of intimacy but it was welcomed all the same. "I...this is what I mean. I get so in my own head that I forget you're dealing with stuff too. Your dad…"

"It's over now. Even before I ran away. You know that."

"I know. I…" She chuckled as the memory flooded her senses. "That night you came to me and told me you hit him back. I thought that was the end of us. I was the only one you told about how he treated you and you wouldn't need me anymore because you learned to fight back."

Chase shook his head. "I always need you, Gert."

She nodded. "I need you too. Even if I'm terrible at showing it. I think I...I push to see who will hold on. It's...I'm just fucked up. That's it."

"Yeah, we all are. There's not a single person in this house that won't have a hefty therapy bill when all of this is over."

"If we make it that far," Gert stated flatly, rolling her eyes.

Chase grinned. "Don't talk like that. We will. You have to believe that."

It was as if, in an instant, Gert decided to accept Chase's love. She fell into his arms, tightening the hold she had on his waist as she dropped her head to his chest. "I...I'm going to figure this out. I...if I seemed distant it was just because I was avoiding the inevitable. But I promise I absolutely do want to have sex with you, Chase."

He chuckled into her hair. "Well that's good."

She jabbed him with her elbow but he only laughed harder. "It's just important to me that you know...wanting you isn't the issue. I always want you. Sometimes I just get stuck in my head."

"That's the point, isn't it? To try to get you to relax?"

"Yeah, if only it were that easy," she mumbled, nuzzling his neck. It was clear that even in her nearly-naked state she felt so safe and comfortable in his arms.

Chase picked up his head, smirking. When he said nothing, Gert looked up too. "Challenge accepted," he cheeked.

* * *

 **A/N :** Sometimes sex isn't sexy...I did warn you. If it helps there's a similar chapter at the end of this story that ends a bit better than this one did. After all, Chase is now on a mission. But a bit more of a rollercoaster until then…I mean, it is called _A Ghost Story_...never said this was going to be a fairytale.

ANOTHER THING...I have another gertchase story planned out. It revolves around their previous life that I showed in Chase's funeral memory last chapter and now Gert's nod toward Chase seeking her for comfort after his dad's abuse. It's definitely AU but at the same time follows the story in a way where it would actually be a convincing backstory. Let me know if you'd be interested?

ALSO - follow me on tumblr! Username is the same as my penname on here. I'm looking for runaways blogs and I love chatting with my readers because ya'll are awesome!

Thanks for reading! Reviews are always appreciated!

x. Elle


	5. Chapter 5

Being a runaway, despite what Chase said, he actually thought about his old life a lot. Not the significant parts, like his parents or his home or his sports. No, he thought about how with all of those things, even when life felt like nothing but pain and chaos, there wasn't much time to think. He couldn't miss Amy, the girl they had lost or Gert, the girl _he_ had lost. Lacrosse was an escape from his family's dysfunction and his time at the gym or tinkering with his fistiguns was merely a distraction for when he did finally have to return home. But he didn't have his parents or his home or lacrosse and the fistiguns were complete and fully functional. He had all the time in the world to think. He also had was Gert — finally — a fact he was unbelievably thankful for. If only he thought she felt the same.

When he found Molly she was in one of the smaller rooms toward the back of the house. She had emptied it of its furniture (an easy task for her, he guessed) and was moving around to a rhythm he couldn't hear. The boombox Topher had gifted her sat noiseless in a corner. He said he had purchased it for a good price at a local tag sale but forgot to purchase CDs to go with it. The hostel was hardly the place for good radio reception and Molly found she couldn't do her preferred dancing to the single Barbra Streisand CD that was left in the disk drive.

The boy with the glowing eyes was nowhere to be found, something Chase was immensely thankful for. He and Gert had voiced their doubts to one another (often over plates of food Topher mysteriously provided) about the boy's behavior — doubting his abilities and his intentions without ever voicing their concerns to Molly. It was clear Molly saw something in him the rest of them didn't see, and as Gert once joked, it had nothing to do with her special eyes. Chase had laughed at that but Gert was right; Molly saw what she wanted to see, as young teenage girls often do. Chase was envious really. He missed holding blind beliefs and not being so jaded by a world that once promised him so much. Molly certainly had a better upbringing by her adoptive parents than Chase had with his biological ones. Chase only wished he could protect her more. They needed her but he wished there was another option. It all would have been much easier if Molly didn't need them.

"Lookin' good, Molls…" Chase said casually in an attempt to announce his presence. He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe.

Molly looked to him, smiling but now trying to catch her breath. "Oh, hey!"

"We really have to find you some music."

"Why? I don't need it! You just said yourself. I look good!" she joked.

Chase chuckled. "You're right." He took a step toward her. "Uh...everyone's out and I wanted to chat with you—"

Molly's smile fell. "Is this about Topher? Because—"

"No, nooo," Chase hushed in promise. "I...that's Gert's thing. That's none of my…" He sighed. "If he says…you know what? No. It's not. It's about—"

"Gert. Yeah, I figured. Not too many topics to discuss lately."

"Well, Gert's not…"

Molly was smirking again. "God, you two are ridiculous. C'mon. I haven't eaten anything." She grabbed Chase's hand and began to drag him toward their makeshift dining room. "I need food if I'm going to give good advice," she stated proudly when she finally plopped Chase down in the chair across from hers.

Immediately she was creating a meal, one that was wholly unbalances as it consisted solely of pastries and cookies and finger sandwiches. When she grabbed for a water bottle she also grabbed for a bag of chips.

"Alright, loverboy. Let's hear it."

"It's not advice—"

"Sure it's not," Molly said, rolling her eyes. Her feet were pulled up onto the chair she sat upon and she casually ate chip after chip, waiting for Chase to speak.

Finally, he sighed. "I just...Gert doesn't really talk about her anxiety and I…" He was hoping Molly would have cut him off by now but she remained relaxed in her chair, waiting. Almost annoyed by this, he looked away and continued. "I want to understand but she won't explain it to me. I mean, she has explained a bit but I don't...I mean, even when we were younger she wasn't great about it. She told me she was having issues—"

"Well that's more than she told the rest of us."

Chase looked up. "What?"

"I didn't know about her anxiety until right after Amy's death. It was so bad she couldn't really keep it a secret then. And for as really weirdly open as Dale and Stacey are she must have had them promising not to say anything because unlike everything else in our personal lives, her anxiety was not up for discussion."

"She...oh. Well...does she talk about it now?"

"Yeah. She talks about it with you too. She talks about it with everyone. Trying to...what is it? Erase the stigma?"

Chase smirked. "Yeah. That sounds about right."

"What do you want to know? I don't think I'll be of much help."

"I just...what is it?"

Molly nearly choked on her chips. "What is what?"

"Anxiety. Like what makes her so stressed?"

"You're asking _me_ what anxiety is? The fourteen year old?"

"You're going to be fifteen soon," Chase reminded smugly.

Molly grinned. "I won't inflate your ego by congratulating you for remembering. Though I have to say...I don't even know what day it is…" Her voice trailed off. "Right, so anxiety...it's not stress. Like, it is, but it's more than that. You get that, right?"

"Well, yeah."

Molly paused. "Okay so you totally _didn't_ get that. Having anxiety is like _everything_ is a stress. I mean, there's definitely things that set her off more than others but that's where the nail biting comes from."

"Or the tapping?"

"She's counting, actually. But yeah, that too. That's where all of that comes from. It helps her distract herself from those things. Makes her think she's in control. But it can't fix everything. Her meds are supposed to do the rest and without them she feels like she's crazy."

"She's not crazy."

"Yeah, well, I'd agree but she doesn't think so."

"How can I help then? She won't open up to me. She pushes me away."

"Anxiety shows up as anger a lot. Stacey told me that."

"Why is she angry at me?"

"She's probably not angry at you...though, knowing you two, she totally may be angry at you but that's not the point. It's about control. That's really it. So if she feels like she has none and the methods she knows to get it back aren't working, she gets impatient and angry."

"Why does she need control? I don't get it."

"You're asking me why Gertrude Yorkes, your girlfriend...former best friend since you were little...you're asking why she needs control?"

"C'mon, Molls. I'm serious."

"So am I," she said, eating the last of her chips and rolling her eyes. She crumpled the foil bag up and tossed it carelessly toward the center of the table. "If she's in control she feels safe. It's...uh...what does Stacey call it...ooh! Controlling your environment. When she's doing that she feels safe."

Chase ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. He sat back too. "So I know things aren't ideal right now and we're all stressed out but I'm here and—" Molly laughed so Chase paused. "What?"

"Nothing, sorry."

"Molly…"

"Okay so you said we're all stressed. Which...yeah. Obviously. But Gert's like that all the time. So now she has her normal Gert stress mixed with her runaway Gert stress...it's honestly a miracle she's lasted this long."

"Molly!"

"That's a compliment!"

"You sure? Sounds a bit dark."

"It's not! Just...here," she sighed. She dropped her feet back down to the floor and braced her arms against the table so she could lean in closer to Chase, looking like she was ready to reveal a secret plan. "You know fight or flight?"

"Kind of. How do you?"

"Do you know Dale and Stacey? Do you know all of the useless information I've been subjected to in my lifetime? I love them but—"

"Right. So...fight or flight. Like deciding whether to run away or stay and fight."

"Uh, yeah. That's pretty much it. Well without Gert's meds she confuses them more than usual."

"Huh?"

Molly had to laugh at Chase's cluelessness. "She can't tell what is something that will actually stress her out and something she is just afraid _might_ stress her out like...tomorrow. She doesn't know the difference. She's afraid of everything. A tiger in this room is just as terrifying to her as _thinking_ that there is a tiger in this room. So her panic attacks...her body is reacting like the tiger is there but the tiger isn't there and because the tiger isn't there she doesn't run she just...panics."

"That's—"

"Don't say ridiculous!" Molly pointed. "And stop telling her to breathe! Or calm down! She hates that." Chase quirked a brow in contemplation, causing Molly to twist her face into one that practically admitted guilt. "The walls are pretty thin around here…"

Chase's face flushed, thankful that Molly was taking her midnight jaunts. He shuddered to think of what else she could hear. "Alright. Yeah. I've learned that. She hates those things because she can't do them. But I'm trying to help."

"I know you are. She probably knows that too. But in the moment she's—"

"Angry."

"Bingo."

"How do we fix it then?"

"We don't. I mean, you said it. She is a little crazy right now. She needs her meds."

"Then we have to go get her meds."

"No can do, hermano."

"But she needs her meds!"

"But if we get them, she won't see it as a gift, she'll see it as a betrayal."

"Then she can come!"

Molly scoffed, sitting back again. "For someone who is not as stupid as Gert always claimed sometimes you can actually be as stupid as Gert always claimed."

Chase shook his head. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"I'm just saying...be there for her. Try to…"

"Protect her from tigers?"

"Well, yeah," Molly shrugged. "And if she swears there's a tiger and there's no tiger...don't tell her there's no tiger. She won't believe you. Just...stay by her side until she figures it out, I guess."

Chase expelled a heavy breath, all before shielding his eyes with a hand that rubbed at his tired temples. When he finally looked up, his eyes seemed darker. His frustration had melted to determination, causing Molly to hide the smile the threatened to tug at her lips.

"You realize this talk of tigers is ridiculous when the girl has a dinosaur, right?"

Molly nearly cackled. "Listen, dude...I'm fourteen. That's all I've got. It's not my fault you can't follow a metaphor."

* * *

 **A/N** **:** This chapter was a bit of wish-fulfillment on my part. This story was a direct response to seeing someone call Gertchase toxic because of Gert's behavior in S2. I'm not saying her behavior was justified but it's clear to me that person just has no concept of anxiety and what it does to a person. Anyway! There you have it. A fourteen year old's explanation.

There's also the problematic element of Chase coming from an abusive home and how he reacts to people pushing him away. If that interests you, go check out my new story _Wake Me_. #shamelessplug

Thanks for reading, lovelies! Ya'll are the best!

x. Elle


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N** **:** Hiiiii! Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed thus far. You're all lovely and I really appreciate the feedback!

This chapter is a bit of wish fulfillment. It originally was going to jump a bit in time but this explores something that had been swirling in my head for awhile and it works to set up the future chapters. It's also a bit lighter than the chapter I had planned...so you're welcome? :)

* * *

Since his talk with Molly, Chase spent a considerable amount of time attempting to put himself in Gert's shoes. What Molly said made sense, but in the same way fairytales do. When you accept that they're nonsensical and unrealistic, they're easier to believe in. Gert's anxiety, while very real to her, was almost unfathomable. Chase had never had anxiety, nor could he imagine his mind being that complex to begin attacking itself. Gert's anxiety was unicorns and flying pigs and dragons in castles in the sky. It was untouchable and far off. But fairy tales were meant to be an escape. Chase may not have understood Gert's anxiety but he agreed with her when she said it was consuming her. He felt suffocated too.

In trying to relate, he found himself producing some small stresses of his own. Laying awake at night he blinked up at the ceiling, amazed to find Gert actually sleeping beside him. Her mouth curled in her sleep, her dark lashes pressed so lightly against each other like laced fingers held between two people who had nothing but trust for one another: dainty and steady and without worry. Her own hands were bunched into small fists and when she rolled over, her weight pressed against his. She moved a lot in her sleep, Chase knew now. He didn't mind it so much. Even on his worst days he was a heavy sleeper and he delighted to wake up and find her snuggled into his side, usually half asleep. If her mind was at war, and it usually was, Chase was warmed by her ability to stay by his side. His presence, he assumed, had a calming effect. She was learning, as he had begged, to hold onto him instead of running away. What Chase didn't know was her grip around him was for her own benefit; Gert feared Chase's retreat far more than her own.

"You okay?" She grumbled, her words laced with sleep. She even pressed a kiss to his pulse point, causing Chase to smile through his own pain. There were these sort of unreal moments when Gert's morning worries had not yet settled in when she was able to show him herself in her most pure and innocent form. The girl he had always known, the girl he fell in love with as a young boy, was there in those early minutes before the sun stirred her from slumber and insisted upon reality.

Chase nodded. "Just thinking."

"About?"

"Nothing. It's fine."

"Not fair. I always tell you."

" _Now_. You tell me now."

"But I tell you," she reminded. Each passing word had her one step closer to awareness, her innate innocence slipping, slipping, slipping.

Chase sighed, causing the palm Gert had pressed to his breastbone to rise and fall with the contraction of his lungs. "I'm just thinking...about all the times I saw you."

"What?"

"I saw you. All the time. And I used to catalogue them. I thought about it all the time. But then I let it all go because I swore you hated me. It was...it hurt, I guess."

Gert blinked herself awake. Chase was whispering but his speech was loud. Though she wanted to, she kept herself from sitting up. She needed to be small beside him, to let him have this vulnerable moment without her constantly interrupting. Sometimes her own mind was so erratic it didn't leave space for him to have thoughts of his own. That was one of her biggest worries lately; how her anxiety caged Chase in the same way his father's abuse always had. He needed her, just like she needed him and yet her stresses were louder, less deserving of attention but receiving it in the same way toddlers receive coddling from parents who don't wish for them to cause a scene in public. She was the queen of self-preservation, and somehow it was stunting Chase's own emotional growth. The overarching theme of Gert's worry seemed so present in this moment: it was wholly unfair for both of them to be honest about their feelings for one another on the same night they believed the world was going to end. They'd been through so much, denying their feelings, causing pain to the other. Now they were beyond that and the world wasn't giving them the time it owed them. She could never love him while they were still runaways. He shouldn't love her, Gert reminded herself, with much more honesty.

"...all those places."

"Huh?"

Chase looked down to her. "Were you falling asleep? I'm rambling. Just—"

She reached up to place a hand to his cheek. "No, I...I want to hear. About all the times you saw me."

Chase nodded in resolve, swallowing. "Do you remember we had that assembly? You were sitting alone and I saw you and I specifically blew off the team to come sit by you and right as I was moving to be by your side you stood up and walked away? I swear it was a dream but...no. You did. I spent the rest of the day wondering what I did. I couldn't blame it on Amy anymore. I didn't...I don't know. It doesn't matter anymore. We were stupid but—"

"What else? Maybe a better one."

Chase smirked, thankful for her quiet insistence. "We had chemistry together. You used to get so frustrated with your partner...Jen was her name I think? But you tried to be nice about it. But I'd look over and you were biting your lip or looking away to roll your eyes."

"I'm a nightmare."

"It was cute. Very you." He chuckled. "Then there was the time I saw you leaving gym. And you had...you had on my shirt. I didn't know where it had went but you had it and I stayed in the hallway and just stared until you went back into the locker room."

"Eiffel used to make fun of me—"

"For the shirt?"

"No. For anything. It didn't matter. You know how she is. And you two were dating at the time—"

"Not dating," he insisted, almost indignantly.

Gert rolled her eyes. "Okay, not dating. Doing whatever it is you did...she had you and I didn't," she said quickly, happy to be done with the thought. "But wearing your shirt...it was kind of a fuck you to her. Nobody knew. But I did. I love that shirt."

Chase returned his attention to the ceiling. "That boy Seth used to sit at the end of the table you sat at during lunch. And you were always reading and he'd comment on the book and maybe you'd talk about it for awhile but then he'd take the hint that you wanted to read and he respected that and went back to his friends. I don't even know if he liked you. He probably did. It doesn't matter either way. I hated him. I was so jealous. I didn't know half the shit you read but I wanted to."

"Wow..."

"I drove by your house on clear nights because I knew you'd be sitting on your roof. Always alone. God you spent so much time alone and I hated it because I got it...I surrounded myself with people but it was empty because they didn't care about me and I didn't care about them. But I was selfish too. I didn't want someone taking my place. I wanted you to not be alone but I didn't want someone else to be the solution. I wanted to be the solution."

"Oh."

"You always stopped at your locker between second and third period to grab a granola bar. I had study hall and you always had to hurry off to whatever advanced class you were taking but I loved seeing what ridiculous outfit you were wearing..." Gert play-punched him. "Then that kind of stopped. The outfits didn't feel as insane."

"Shut up."

Chase laughed, causing his chest to rattle. "But you cut your hair. And I wanted to tell you I liked it. It scared me but I did. It had been so long for so long." Gert stunted a snort. "Then it was purple and...I didn't know what I thought of it. I just...I missed the old you but I liked the new you too. I just hated you were finding yourself and pushing through everything and all I did was hide. It was like everyday you were proof that I was a coward. God, I almost told you so many times…"

"I would have thought you were making fun of me."

"Why do you think I stayed silent?" He could practically feel her smiling into his chest. "You came to a lacrosse game once."

"What?"

"You—"

"I was only there for a bit."

"Yeah because you were waiting for Molly to get out of her lab...or something like that. But you stayed and watched. With your purple hair. Everyone knew you were there. Or they didn't because they looked past you...but I didn't. I saw you. I just...I wanted to go over to you and ask you to stay. I felt special. It was weird..." He exhaled. "Then there was the time you were volunteering at the library and I needed a book and the system said we had it but it wasn't on the shelf. I waited until you were alone at the desk but I just couldn't walk over because I figured you'd make a joke about me reading or—"

"Chase, I'm sorry…"

"It's okay. Really. I deserved it. It was funny...in a pathetic way. I finally got so worked up I thought I was going to throw up so I walked out without the book. I failed that paper. Probably would have passed if I had just asked you..."

"Oh my god." Gert giggled.

"You hung posters protesting the bathrooms. You know, the gender stuff. And I pulled one down to read it. I don't know why. And the guys came up and started making jokes and I was just quiet. As usual. And they walked away and I kept it. Slipped it into my bag. It was in one of my binders for months. Every time I pulled out my shitty homework I thought of you because it was there. I also thought of you because you'd be so ashamed of my overall lack of effort with my schoolwork. But I tried. I thought you'd be proud of that." Gert scrunched her nose upward in quiet, adorable agreement. "Then it was your birthday. Then mine. And you got your car and I got my car. It was the one time I was almost brave enough to actually go to you like I wanted. We always said we couldn't wait until we could drive. You were supposed to be my first ride after I passed my road test. That was supposed to be our thing. But you drove Molly around. I just turned my music up loud. Music you hated—"

"Hate."

"Okay, hate," he conceded, rolling his eyes playfully.

"Anything else? I'm beginning to think I was blind."

"We both were. In a way."

"I didn't—"

"If I wanted you to see me seeing you I could have."

"But I didn't want you to see me seeing you. I'd look pathetic. Everyone assumed I liked you

because...who didn't? But you'd never like me."

"I always liked you. We were twelve and I..." _Loved you, needed you, wanted you_ , his mind chanted. "I was stupid. Selfish. A coward. Undeserving. Blind. Too aware. Not aware enough. Tired...obsessed. All of it."

Gert leaned up, pulling her weight up with the help of his muscled form. She waited, stunting her own speech as she took him in. He was effortlessly handsome, even fresh from sleep. It was unfair. This was unfair. But she needed to hear it. More importantly, he needed to say it. "I..." But it didn't come. Maybe she was all of those things too. "It would have complicated things."

"What would it have complicated?"

"It would have been painful. Being together reminded us of Amy. We were growing apart anyway. We were all so different and now we had this thing that made our differences easier to focus on."

"No. We work so well now. None of that mattered. It didn't matter then and it definitely doesn't matter now."

"Our parents are psychopaths. Not much matters now."

"You matter. To me. In general but...we should go back to bed. I just...I'm glad I could tell

you all of that. I never thought I'd get the chance."

"I never would have guessed."

"There are others..."

"Saving them for a rainy day?"

"Saving them forever, actually. They involve...what do you call it? Objectification?"

Gert snickered. "You're such a boy."

Chase pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of Gert's mouth, both inhaling through it. He then turned over, prompting her to do the same. It was so instinctual now, with hours to pass and stresses to overcome, for the two to spoon against one another as they drifted in and out of slumber. Their shared bedroom had become somewhat of an oasis and neither knew if it was the dark or the shared company that had such a musty, sometimes cold place feeling like home.

With Chase's arm wrapped around her, Gert felt overwhelmed by her need to cry but like usual, she swallowed it down. Her face burned and her throat felt so tight she thought she might choke on all the nothingness but she didn't shed a single tear until she was confident Chase was asleep. Then she slipped out of his grasp, slipped into her shoes, and slipped out the door.


	7. Chapter 7

Everyone heard them arrive home. It was difficult not to; the Rolls Royce was exceptionally loud entering and exiting the canyon. They had all also watched Chase leave in a hurry earlier, practically running for the garage with the keys in hand and his jacket barely tossed on. It was only after he was gone that they all realized Gert was not with him and that her absence existed in all rooms of the house, not just the large dining room where the team liked to convene. Without her, Old Lace followed behind Molly, always too close, looking like both an overprotective parent and a bumbling eager child. It seemed no one knew what to do without Gert, especially when it was clear that the lack of her presence was not planned, or at least was not known to those who mattered. Something was not right.

All was confirmed when Chase came back, still without Gert and moving just as quickly, but wearing a completely different face. His previous speed told of relief and anxiety - the good kind. Currently he was angry, enraged even, as he stomped up the staircase like a child being punished. When Gert entered slowly behind him, following his trajectory at a much quieter and slower pace, everything slid into focus. Something was very, very wrong.

Looks were shared between Nico and Karolina while Molly got up from the table and went into the library with a newly calm Old Lace. Upstairs a door slammed, drawing a clear line between Chase and Gert and the rest of their makeshift family. Things were too real lately, Molly thought as she watched everyone fill the various roles of the missing adults in their lives: mothers and fathers and husbands and wives. Their living arrangements were almost laughable. The same intimacy that made lonely nights bearable also exacerbated dormant insecurities, something each teen made seem like a talent.

Locked away, Gert fell back onto the bed, letting the weight on her shoulders push her down and keep her there. Only her eyes were capable of movement, darting about, following Chase's erratic motion as he moved from one side of the room to the other. Tears she had cried and wanted to cry still clouded her vision, delaying her realization: he was grabbing for his things with a clear intent to move them elsewhere. Her throat constricted; she had done what she did to save them and now he was leaving her.

"Molly told me," Chase began, slamming a drawer shut with such force that it shook the entire dresser and the scratched and peeling mirror above. "About the fight or flight. She used the tiger analogy. That's a good one," he scoffed.

"Why are you telling me?"

"Because I know she didn't come up with that on her own."

Gert looked down to where she held her hands in her lap. Her nails, marked only by chipped turquoise nail polish, picked absently at her cuticles. "No, she didn't," she sighed, almost in defeat.

"Which means," Chase emphasized, his body finally still, "you know how to explain this to people you just didn't want to explain it to me?"

"I...I know how but that doesn't mean I like to. It's a need to know basis—"

"And I need to know."

"You're right. You do," Gert nodded, looking away again. "And I'm sorry."

"You're not so stop apologizing!"

"I can't! I'm nervous and I can't get this right!"

"Then calm down!"

"Stop saying that! You know I hate that!"

"I know," Chase admonished inwardly. "I'm sorry."

"We both need to stop saying that." A small laugh escaped Gert's lips, one only Chase could recognize as stress and worry. She had many of them, anxiety laced habits, but this was the most serious. He much preferred her nervous giggle, the one that came before or after a kiss and was always, no matter what, followed with a knowing smile.

"We both need to stop being stupid."

Gert stood and went to him. "You're not being stupid, Chase, I am. It's me. I'm crazy. You need to stop apologizing for my illness. For my shitty behavior. You do it because of how things are with your dad but—"

"What?" he spat. Her words were a reminder of their previous argument, of the thing that propelled them up the stairs in the first place. Chase's feelings, his adoration and love for Gert, momentarily distracted him from just how upset he was but it was clear now that his anger was merely boiling beneath the surface, turning his face hot and his skin pink.

"Because of what he put you through," Gert persevered without apology. "Still puts you through…" she reasoned in a softer tone.

"What are you even talking about? Now this is my fault?"

"No! No! It's not! It's mine! I'm just saying we're both broken!"

"Ghee thanks, Gert!"

"We are! You apologize to me because it's what you're used to doing to people who hurt you! But I need to figure this out and none of this is your fault and I just need you by my side…"

Chase shook his head, laughing. "You have a funny way of showing it."

He shut another drawer for no other reason than to announce his immediate exit. Again he was trudging, a half-folded stack of wrinkled clothes underneath his arm and his toothbrush and comb gripped tightly in his hand. Without him Gert collapsed back on the bed — their bed — the same place she'd kissed him the night before. She'd lied to him atop this mattress, assuring him she was okay. His mouth had been a lifeline then, each touch of his lips like dopamine, if only for a moment.

Chase left the door open in his wake. Gert heard the muffled shuffling of bodies and voices from down below wafting upward to interrupt her silence. Even with all of its rooms this old creaky home sometimes felt like a stage where every action, every breath was on display and open for criticism. It felt like that when she was off her meds and it felt like that now, freshly dosed and still searching for normalcy.

Slowly Gert sat up, deciding if she was going to be alone she wanted to do so in a much more pronounced way. Before she could move to her feet Chase entered again, empty handed, allowing him to slam the door shut. Gert nearly jumped at the echo but she found herself even more unnerved by the stillness that followed. Chase's chest heaved in the same way it did when he was breathless after a kiss, but his tongue was laced with ire now and even as he moved to stand closer to her, Gert swore he was a million miles away.

She watched him rummage around in another drawer, not caring if the items he disregarded fell to the floor below. A shirt drifted down, landing on the dusty rug. Gert focused on the maroon cotton, unsure if the article of clothing was hers or his. Up until today she had forgotten there was a difference.

"This is why I didn't want to explain it to you," Gert whispered, her voice breaking through. "You know I'm crazy. You know you're in over your head. I didn't need to confirm it for you."

"I don't think any of those things!" Chase's voice was calmer now but it was hardly a sign of yielding — he was exhausted.

"It doesn't matter though! Because you should think those things. I'm crazy," Gert assured with a hand pressed into her chest. "And the tiger? That's real."

Chase blinked. He stopped what he was doing and straightened his posture. "What?"

"It's you," Gert explained quickly. Then her voice turned to a raspy whisper: "You're my tiger."

"I don't...What are you saying?"

"It's not if this tiger is going to attack me. It's...will Chase leave? And I know that's not a rational fear. Like the tiger I know that's not normal to fixate on. But I do and to keep that from happening I...push you away."

He shook his head again, as if to reject all she was saying. "That makes no sense."

"It's a...test, I guess. I know that sounds terrible just let me explain! Let me...try. It's like...it puts me in control. If I push you away before you push me away then I've won. You can't break my heart if I break yours first. My mind can't draw a line between the thought of you leaving and you actually being gone. You're here but it's like I'm already trying to prepare myself for when you're not. Self-preservation, you know?" There it was, that anxious laugh again. Chase couldn't mimic it; he didn't _know_. "And if I push and I push and you're still here well...I don't know what happens then. I didn't think...I don't think. I don't know what I'm saying. I know it's hard to understand…"

"Yeah, it is," Chase exhaled. He took another step toward Gert. His feet were heavy and all of him seemed weak. "Is it so hard to believe I'm going to be here for you? That maybe you don't have to do this alone?"

"Yes!" Gert tossed back honestly, almost in disbelief that she had to do so. "Because I wouldn't ask anyone to experience this with me! I don't want to feel these things. My mind is a prison. I don't want you trapped in here with me."

"And what about what I want?"

Gert swallowed. "I'm tired Chase. And you deserve better and I...I don't know what to do. This is so fucked up."

Chase picked up the clothes he had tossed aside, grabbing each item singularly only to lay the folded shirts over his arm, one by one. "Yeah," he assured, already heading for the door. "It really is."

* * *

 **A/N** **:** It was so incredibly difficult for me not to have Chase comfort Gert through all of this. It's what my shipper heart wants and needs but it's just not realistic. Chase absolutely has (and had) a right to feel what he feels (and felt) and Gert honestly didn't deserve a hug after what she did. It was incredibly selfish. No arguments there. But writing this still broke my heart a bit.

Anyone else?

x. Elle


	8. Chapter 8

_****Note :** Barely edited. I had a burst of energy/motivation and I wanted to finish this chapter because it's been in my mind so long and I finally needed to get it out. This tackles a few very minor things I was disappointed the show left out. Just some loose strings my mind needed tying up. _

_Enjoy?_

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Chase saw Gert sitting in a huddled mass on the tattered couch in the grand foyer and immediately wondered why. He soon figured that his aversion to the spot was likely why she chose it in the first place. The conversations they needed to have were like secrets. The words they needed to pass back and forth and the sentiment that coated each one was private — intimate even. But it made sense now as Chase continued to descend the stairs, why Gert existed there instead of up in the bedroom they once shared. Yes, voices from above could travel down and interrupt silence but any attempt at discourse could also float upward. The openness of the space was somehow a defense mechanism.

"Hey."

Gert looked up and for a moment Chase reasoned that she wasn't ignoring him, at least not actively. Gert, the girl that sometimes rattled on passionately about grassroots politics and the disenfranchised often found herself lost in her head. Few saw this side of her, making it all but a shock when she quickly tried to recover as if she had in fact noticed Chase standing before her.

"Hey," she returned in a similarly flat tone.

"Want some company?"

Yes, she did — before — when she didn't deserve it but craved it all the same. It was selfishness that created this mess and it was selfishness now that made that same mess feel like home. "Sure."

Chase sat, the couch depressing beneath him. A puff of dust rose in the air and Gert looked away, hiding the smallest of smirks behind the hand that covered her mouth. When her gaze seemed stuck, Chase leaned forward and grabbed for the family-size of trail mix laid that stood on the nearby coffee table. Without apology he reached in and retrieved a fistful of candies and nuts. Gert looked back now, clearly alerted by the grumble Chase's stomach gave in response to the sugar.

"I didn't eat dinner," he explained in defense instead of placation.

"Yeah," she breathed out. With the exhale she shifted, releasing her bended legs down to the floor. "Sorry—"

"Why?" Chase stiffened, suddenly forgetting the makeshift dinner in his lap. "I can take care of myself. I should—"

"No, of course," Gert stammered. "I didn't mean that. I just mean we were...it doesn't matter," she sighed. But before Chase could respond or even process much of what she was saying, an inhale invigorated her and made her brave again. "I'm just saying it helps to have someone, you know? It makes everything a little less difficult. It's like my medicine in that way, I guess. Everything doesn't seem as bad as it is when you have someone to pretend with."

"Like when we were kids?"

Gert's concentration was lost somewhere between nostalgia and devastation. "Yeah. Kinda."

Chase gave an exaggerated nod and returned to his bag of mostly empty calories. He chewed through the miserable combination of sesame sticks and chocolate, remembering despite his anger how he and Gert had once sat on the loveseat up in their bedroom, tossing unfavorable trail mix ingredients at one another.

 _He loved her._ He knew that now. Because he couldn't be mad at her, not really. And what's more, he missed the girl who sat on the other side of the sofa; she felt a million miles away and he wanted her back. Despite the betrayal and it being his decision to push her away, he needed her. She was absolutely right; pain with Gert was preferable to solitude. None of this seemed worth it anymore if this is how they'd choose to spend their days.

"I...I asked too much of you."

It was Chase's turn to look up. Gert's cracking voice pulled him out of his reverie and his mouth fell open involuntarily. In an attempt to regain his composure, Chase swallowed. "Gert…"

"No." It was stern; it was sad. "Let me finish. I...I've been trying to be there for Molly and protect her and I just felt like a fraud because I'm this mess and I'm trying to fix her and I can't because I'm so broken. And I felt... _feel_ like everything is falling apart and you're the one really great thing and I...I fucked it up, Chase. I had to but it doesn't mean—"

"What do you mean you had to?" He sat forward, nearly spilling the bag of trail mix on the floor.

"Topher—"

An inexplicable rage swelled within Chase turning his hands to fists and his skin hot. His mind went to the worst of places, places he knew Gert would hate him for considering. She could protect herself, _of course she could_. But it wasn't about what she needed; it was about what Chase wanted. "What?"

"I wasn't thinking clearly. I wanted something, anything to make me feel better, to make me feel normal enough so I could be there for the people that needed me so no one had to take care of me because I know how draining that can be. So he said he could help. Get me something to take off the edge."

"You were going to take rocks from the dig site?"

"What? No! He was going to get me pills. Meds similar to what I used to take, I think. We didn't really talk about it but I was in a fog. I just needed anything to take the edge off. I just felt like such a burden and I…" Gert's throat felt so tight she nearly choked. A burning, twisting pain made speech impossible but she gasped and her heart caught its beat. "I was sick of feeling so low. I knew how crazy I was being but I couldn't stop. And I was drowning and I saw myself taking you with me...I don't know."

There was a prolonged silence. Gert seemed smaller after revealing everything to Chase and the air danced, static around their heads, waiting for one of them to break the quiet spell.

Finally, Chase spoke but he didn't look to her. "You know this is all I ever wanted, right?"

"What?" Gert scoffed. "A crazy girlfriend?"

"Yeah and a dinosaur," Chase joked. Gert's forced smile was permission to continue. "I mean you telling me things. Being honest...about your anxiety." He paused, licking his lips. "Do you really think I need to see someone?"

"What?"

"A therapist. Like you do. For your anxiety."

Gert chuckled again, also rolling her eyes. She sat back on the couch once more. "I think anyone that deals with me should probably see a therapist. Maybe mine can give us a two for one discount." The laugh that escaped her forever-plump lips was anything but comforting and when her attempt at humor fell flat, Gert folded into herself again.

"I mean...with my dad," Chase tried again. "Do you think I'm still fucked up from all of that?"

"I think…" Chase cocked his head as if to implore Gert to be honest. "Yes," she responded, almost relieved. "But it's not your fault. And that's what you need to realize. Your dad hitting you wasn't about you." Her voice was quiet now and somehow that tugged at Chase's lips, curling them into a small grin. She was still keeping his secrets, even after all these years. "He has his own issues and he took them out on you but it had nothing to do with the kid you either were or weren't. You could be perfect and he still would have done it. I mean, you _were perfect_ and he _did_."

Chase nodded. "Wow. You know your stuff."

"I only...you learn some things. In therapy. My parents certainly paid enough, I might as well share all that very expensive wisdom."

Chase smirked. "I feel dumb for not knowing back then. You know, about your anxiety. I knew you were always stressed but I thought that was just you wanting to be good at everything. I used to think you were crazy honestly because I didn't know why you stressed. You were naturally good at everything."

"Hardly."

"Better than me."

Gert's cheeks flushed and suddenly her fingers in her lap seemed interesting. "It wasn't a competition. I can't throw a ball."

"Neither can I."

Gert actually laughed out loud before rolling her eyes. "Sorry," she jested in surrender. "I can't use a _stick_ to throw a ball. Or kick one with my feet."

"Fair." Chase shrugged. They both looked away, Gert clearly ready to accept silence and figuring Chase was too. What more was there to say?

 _Oh. That,_ she thought. The three-letter sentiment she'd wanted to share with him for too long now. Once upon a time it seemed like the only secret that was hers alone to keep...

"Was it always this bad?"

Chase's voice, honest and warm, had Gert looking up. She softened too. "It got worse after Amy died. Change doesn't bode well for anxiety so I was a mess for awhile."

"I'm sorry I left you."

"I left you too," she reminded. "But we fell apart. All of us."

Chase nodded and for a moment Gert thought that they'd actually reached a conclusion. Then:

"We were always different though, right?"

She pursed her lips and gave an enthusiastic nod in return. "I always thought so...I just didn't know you did. I wanted you for so long, Chase. And now I finally have you — _had_ you and of course my anxiety has to ruin things."

"It helps though, right?"

"What?"

"Having someone."

"I…"

"It wasn't a question, I guess," Chase shrugged, independent in his thought and unusually complacent. Using the back of the couch as leverage, Chase pulled his weight across the worn-out cushions between them. Chase was close to Gert now, closer than the two had been in days. She looked up to him, her eyes as undeniably round as they were tired. "I'm saying...it helps to have someone." His hand rose, ready to palm at her cheek: gentle, delicate, desperate. Gert's breath hitched like it had when they first kissed, like it had so many times before when such a thing was all she wanted. But he froze, paralyzed and the pressure and sound of Gert's heartbeat sounded so intense her vision blurred and Chase almost failed to exist completely.

Or maybe that was her pills and her body was getting used to being medicated again. At least she had the one comfort, because she certainly didn't have the other — the someone. He was gone and Gert felt just as broken as she had been before her trip to the hospital, before the rash decision that had gotten her into this mess when her mind was so clouded she nearly told _her someone_ her secret.

But it existed in her uncluttered mind too: _I love you._

* * *

 **A/N** **:** _The next chapter is the last one I have planned based on where the series left off. Once Hulu gets their shit together and announces the renewal for Season 3 I absolutely plan on exploring little anxiety-ridden moments even if the storyline shifts away from that as Gert's focus (as it likely will). I never said this had to go in complete chronological order so if you have any moments you want me to cover, let me know. I love prompts and I'm always flattered to receive them!_

 _Thanks for reading!_

 _x. Elle_


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